If We Ever Meet Again
by Miss Construed
Summary: Ever wanted to know more about that Stav fellow, and just Amelia was like before we met her in NOM? Well, now you know. A Sorry Ladies, Northman's Off the Market prequel. Rated M for language.
1. Prologue

**AN:** It's been many months since I wrote the last chapter of Sorry Ladies, Northman's Off the Market (well the real last chapter, not counting the outtakes in Northman's Still Off the Market), but there's been a part of the story that's been nagging at me to be written. It has nothing to do with Eric, or Sookie, or even the lovable NOM Pam. It's the story of Amelia and the man I created to balance her craziness. I grew quite attached to good old Stav when I was writing NOM, and his story was begging to be told.

And, being the visual person that I am, I of course had to cast the role of Stav and Amelia. You can see my choices in the banner here: http : /img38 . imageshack . us/img38/8889/stavbanner1 . jpg (also linked in my profile)

I realize it's a bit indulgent to write the story of a character I dreamed up, but it's 100% written, and only six chapters, a prologue and an epilogue. I do hope that you enjoy it! Now, onto the show…

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**If We Ever Meet Again**

~Prologue~

The small hydrofoil boat pushed away, carrying a mix of travelers: businessmen off to close a new deal; tourists headed to their next destination; children filled with glee at the adventure of it all; and one lonely figure, standing and waving with a solemn look on her face.

I stood on the beach, watching the girl who had consumed my every moment for the last month disappear on the horizon. It felt like a part of me was dying, being torn away slowly until I would be something less than whole.

Our relationship had blazed so hot, filled with an intensity I had never known in my seventeen years. We didn't know each other well, though we knew each other intimately. I couldn't tell you what her favorite book was, or how she'd met her best friend, but I knew the heretofore unchartered map of her body, the way she responded when my fingers grazed across the delicate skin at her hips.

I had always been level headed, never swept away by anything. My giagia had always looked at me skeptically, wondering how I could possibly be related and still so unemotional. I'd learned to hold back, to calculate my every move. I did not believe in reckless passion, or so I had thought. But my world had been turned upside down by the pixie of a girl that had just disappeared from my life.

We'd agreed that her departure and return to America would be the end of things for now; that we would have to hand ourselves over to the fates and see what would happen.

"If we're meant to be," she'd said, gently cupping my face as I kissed her goodbye. "It will happen. We will know; if we ever meet again."


	2. Chapter 1

~Chapter 1, as told by Stav~

There she was. The only woman I had ever been in love with, well as much as a seventeen year old boy knew about love. That seventeen year old boy believed in a lot of things, and had been disappointed when fate had been less than kind. I hadn't seen her in ten years, which made her just about the last woman I expected to see at the remote bar in Mykonos.

I closed my eyes, wondering if the two shots my friend Sakis had forced me to drink had done more of a number than I had expected; maybe I was seeing things.

Nope. She was still there. Amelia Carmichael. The girl I'd been comparing every other woman to unfavorably for most of my adult life.

The name sounded innocuous, and hardly like a name that would inspire feelings of lust, but Amelia Carmichael wasn't like other women and hadn't been since the day I'd met her a decade ago.

I shook my head to myself. Had it been that long? I remembered it like it was yesterday, seeing her on the beach in front of my uncle's house wearing the tiniest excuse of a bikini I'd seen in my seventeen years. And let me tell you, growing up on Mykonos, I'd seen my share of tiny bikinis, if women even bothered to wear them that is. I wasn't from a puritanical society, we relished and savored the human form, and I hadn't seen a human form quite as appealing as the one that belonged to Amelia Carmichael. Things hadn't changed on that front; if anything, she was even more appealing.

"What's wrong with you?" my friend Sakis asked, poking my side. "You look like you saw a ghost."

He wasn't that far off. Amelia Carmichael was a ghost of my past, someone who I thought I'd never see again, yet there she was sitting at a barstool in my favorite bar, holding court for her legions of admirers. I couldn't blame the poor suckers. She was undoubtedly beautiful, but there was something else, a sort of energy she gave off that lured everyone to her.

His eyes followed my line of vision, bulging when he saw the tiny brunette I was watching. "Who is that?" he asked.

I shrugged, not particularly wanting to share the history I had with her. It was in the past, so far removed that no one would even care to hear it. I was a man known for having a string of females at my beck and call; no one knew that I secretly carried a torch for the petite brunette who'd taken my seventeen year old heart and never given it back. No one would ever need to know.

I laughed to myself as I watched the hoard of men circling her, all eager to garner her attention, to be her chosen prey. And she was a predator, no doubt about it. I could tell even from this distance that the sweet and innocent sixteen year old I had known was gone, replaced by a woman who knew what she wanted and exactly how to get it.

"Well whoever she is, I want to get to know her better." He puffed out his chest in male pride, primping like a peacock at the thought of catching her eye.

"You and every other man here," I said, nodding to her entourage. Little did they know that I'd already had my shot with her, when she was still innocent and untouched. Not that she'd been untouched by the time our summer fling was over.

I laughed as an overly ardent man dropped to his knees in front of her and kissed her outstretched hand like she was the Queen of England. Her eyes sparkled with amusement at the gesture, but I knew that it wouldn't go farther than that. It never did with women like her, women who could have their pick of men. There was a way to get their attention, and swooning over them like fourteen year old girls wasn't it.

I made my way over to the bar, taking my eyes off of Amelia only long enough to greet the people in my path. She was more beautiful than I remembered, the ten years giving her a maturity and confidence that the beautiful sixteen year old hadn't possessed. She wore a long, flowing white dress, which was in stark contrast to her sun kissed skin. Her dark hair fell in waves against her shoulders; untamed by anything, begging to have some lucky mans hands run though the strands.

She smiled at something one of her admirers said, throwing her head back and revealing an expanse of skin at her throat, and that's when it happened. As she lowered her head, her eyes locked with mine; her shock was quickly masked, replaced by a knowing glint as she gave me a seductive smile and turned to say something to the man on her left.

I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. She had seen me, recognized me and dismissed me. I shouldn't care. I was Stavros Kostopolous; I had women tripping over themselves to meet me, I did not need one tiny slip of an American's attention. It had been ten years, things changed. The Amelia Carmichael I remembered probably didn't live up to the reality anyway.

I ordered my drink and waited as the pretty bartender mixed my drink. She flirted outrageously, propositioning me as she set the full glass down in front of me. She was beautiful in her own right, much more my speed. I wasn't looking for anything beyond a fling here or there. I was 27 years old, much too young to be thinking of anything serious. I had plenty of time to find someone and settle down. Tonight was a night for living, and I had been doing a darned good job of it up until five minutes ago.

"Stav?" a familiar voice asked from behind me. It was a bit deeper; a bit huskier; and a hell of a lot sexier than I remembered, but it was still familiar. "Is that you?"

I waited a second before I turned around and came face to face with the girl I'd kept in the back of my mind for the past ten years. She looked even better up close, the spatter of freckles on her nose reminding me of the girl she had once been.

"Amelia Carmichael," I said, offering her a crooked smile that I had become famous for.

"It is you!" she shrieked before launching herself at me bodily. I barely had time to brace myself before she was in my arms, pressed intimately against my too eager body. "I wondered if I'd see you," she continued, apparently not at all affected by our close quarters. Meanwhile, it was taking every ounce of self control I had to stop a certain part of my body from responding as she moved her hips against mine casually. She leaned up and brushed her lips across my cheek, her hot breath mingling with mine as she backed away.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, unable to come up with something better to say.

"What do you think I'm doing?" she asked with a laugh. "I'm here for a few drinks."

"Not the bar," I said. "On Mykonos. What are you doing on Mykonos?"

"Oh." She shrugged her shoulders, unwrapping herself from around my neck. "I needed a vacation. Daddy has something going in Athens, so I thought I'd catch a ride over and stay on the island. It's been ages since we've used the house, though Calandra has kept it up beautifully of course."

I smiled as I recalled their housekeeper, always so stern and watchful of Amelia. She had been more like a governess than a housekeeper, making sure that the daughter of the household didn't do anything inappropriate. It was a good thing that Amelia had been a good liar, for we never would have been able to get away with anything under Calandra's nose.

"My goodness," she said, her eyes scouring my face. "You're even better looking than I remember, and that's saying something! You don't tend to downplay your first, do you?"

I laughed at her forthrightness and shook my head. "No, I don't suppose you do."

"It is so good to see you!" she said, smiling brightly. "I was hoping I would run into you, but with the way everyone seems to be leaving the island, I wasn't so sure."

She reached out and took the glass from my hand, putting her lips where mine had been and taking a sip. She closed her eyes and smiled. "I see your tastes haven't changed," she said, looking up at me. "Still drinking vodka tonics."

"If it isn't broken," I said with a shrug.

"Tell me all about you," she said, hopping up on the empty stool next to me.

"What's there to tell?" I asked.

"It's been ten years!" she exclaimed. "I'm sure there's a lot to tell. What do you do? Where do you live? Are you married? No," she shook her head. "Don't tell me that. I don't think I want to know if you're married. I don't think I could take it."

I chuckled and shook my head, taking a swig of the vodka tonic before answering her. "I'm working for Dad's company, living mostly in Athens, and no, not married."

Her eyes gleamed with triumph at my last statement, though she ignored it. "Athens?" she asked. "Then what are you doing in Mykonos?"

"I'm visiting for my sister's wedding."

"Elena is getting married?" she asked, her eyes widening with shock. "But she's so young!"

"She's twenty-two," I replied, signaling to the bartender for another drink.

"Make that two," Amelia commanded, turning back to me. "No way is she twenty-two! She was playing with Barbies last time I saw her."

"And you were dreaming of Nick Lachey," I joked, remembering the way she'd fussed when the boy bander had been on the island.

She groaned and shook her head. "Thankfully that was short lived. Thanks to you." She smirked and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. "You did a fine job of ruining other men for me," she admonished.

"I'm sure you found a way to get over it."

"Not easily!" she defended. "There was a whole period in college where I swore off men entirely."

The images that statement evoked were enough to make my calming libido speed up. There was no way that little Amelia Carmichael had gone through an experimentation phase in college, was there?

"There were a couple more, but after Pam," she continued, "well, I just realized that as fun as it was, I am pretty much a strictly dickly kind of gal."

I took a long drink of the vodka, trying to distract myself of thoughts of Amelia entwined with whoever this Pam person was. I had thought of Amelia many ways, but had never imagined that she would be with another woman. Yes, this Amelia was different, but darned if she wasn't just as appealing as her predecessor.

Maybe a short fling with my past wasn't such a bad idea.

"There you are!" a man's voice said from behind me. I turned my head to see the owner of the voice and frowned when he came to a stop and wrapped his arm around Amelia's waist. "I wondered where you had run off to," he said, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

She looked up at me and silently apologized. "Adrian!" she said, loosening his grip on her. "I was only gone for a minute."

"One minute is too long to be away from you, darling," he said. I nearly choked on my drink. I hadn't considered the possibility that Amelia was here with a man, not just with the line of admirers she'd left behind when she'd found me.

"I'm sure it is," she said. I thought I heard an edge of sarcasm, but maybe I was imagining things. She wasn't doing much to push him away.

"Hello Adrian," I said with a smirk. I'd known Adrian since I was ten years old and I could easily say that he hadn't changed much. He'd always been a flashy type, throwing around his family name and fortune to get what he wanted. Apparently he wanted the same thing I did.

"Stavros," he responded with a nod. His eyes darted between Amelia and me. "Do you two know each other?"

Before I could respond, Amelia piped in. "Oh sure! We've known each other forever, haven't we Stavie?"

_Stavie?_ I hadn't heard that one in awhile. Ten years to be exact. I looked at her for a moment, before turning my attention to the impatient man standing next to her.

"It's true," I said with a shrug. Granted, I probably knew less about her than he did, but it didn't hurt my cause to pretend. "Forever."

"We were just catching up," Amelia said. "I didn't expect him to be here."

"I didn't either," Adrian said unhappily. The line of fops hadn't put him off apparently, but attention from another eligible man clearly wasn't welcome.

"Would you run and get me another drink?" Amelia asked him sweetly. I looked at the bored bartender behind her, only the shake of her head stopping me from raising my hand for her attention. "From the man at the front," she instructed. "You know how particular I am about my drinks."

She hadn't had a problem drinking out of mine, or with the one she'd just finished. Adrian looked at her for a moment before forcing a smile. "Of course, dearest." He leaned down to kiss her, to mark his territory. I couldn't help but laugh when she abruptly turned her head and his lips made contact with her left cheekbone.

"Be a dear and hurry," she said. "I'm quite parched."

Adrian eyed me warily before turning around to run her fool's errand. Yes, she had grown into her role well. She knew exactly what to say and do to make a man jump; or at least she thought she had. She probably had never run into any man who questioned her, any man that offered the least bit of resistance. She was spoiled and pampered, and she thoroughly enjoyed it. Or so she thought. I would have to show her otherwise.

"Do you always do that?" I asked, inclining my head towards the crowd that had swallowed Adrian.

"What do you mean?" she asked, picking up my drink and finishing it.

"Order your boyfriends around?"

"Adrian is not my boyfriend," she said with a shrug.

"Good to know," I said. "But you didn't answer my question. Do you always order men around?"

"Not always," she said defiantly. "Not Daddy."

"But other than your father?"

"How else am I supposed to get what I want?" she asked. "If I don't say exactly what I want, how will I ever be satisfied? That's something you taught me," she added with a smirk.

"Glad I left a lasting impression." I reached out and took the glass from her hand, placing my lips on the rim where hers had touched. The sticky texture of her lip gloss clung to the glass, leaving the faintest hint of cherry flavoring. I wanted nothing more than to taste it for myself first hand, to lick every ounce of it off of her smirking lips, but that wasn't going to get me anywhere with her. I didn't want to be like her string of admirers, and giving in too easily would make me another notch on her bedpost. No. If I was going to pursue Amelia Carmichael – and every minute I spent with her made my resistance that much weaker – I would have to win at her game.

"You have no idea," she said, watching my lips as I licked off a stray drop of my cocktail. "Meet me tomorrow," she commanded.

"What?"

"Tomorrow. Meet me. I want to see you again."

"Aren't you afraid that Adrian might not like that?"

She rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. "I could care less what Adrian thinks. Besides, I could tell him I needed to leave to have sex with the Olympic team and he'd be sitting there waiting for me."

"And you like that?" I asked, knowing the answer.

She shrugged. "I'm used to getting what I want. Meet me. Ten o'clock."

I chuckled and shook my head. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" she asked, pouting prettily. I was sure this tactic had worked on any number of the men that had come after me.

"I don't take too well to orders."

"Fine," she groaned. "What if I ask you? Would you like to have coffee with me tomorrow at ten? I'm sure Calandra won't mind."

I looked at her for a minute in silence. I wanted to go more than anything I remembered wanting in a long time. I knew that if I went to see her tomorrow, we'd end up in a tangled mess of naked limbs. It sounded like a good idea, a fucking brilliant idea, but it wouldn't be enough. I didn't want to be Vacation Fling #8. Not with Amelia.

I leaned forward until our faces were mere inches apart, reaching up to play with a lock of her hair that had fallen over her bare shoulder. I heard her breath catch and smiled to myself. She may have the polished veneer, but underneath was still the girl whose heart fluttered at my touch. Yes, this was going to be something more than a fling, of that I was sure.

"As good as that sounds," I said, low enough so only she would hear, "I'm not one of your playthings Amelia. I'm not like Adrian. If you want me, if you want this, I won't do your biding and I won't be a passing fancy."

She gasped, her mouth hanging open at my forwardness. Good. She probably hadn't been told no in her entire life. God knows I hadn't said no all those years ago.

I leaned further forward, shifting until my mouth was at her ear, reveling in the delightful shiver that went down her body. "You go home tonight and stew on that. I can play nice Amelia, real nice. I'm hoping you can too. If you want me, it's not for right now; it's for good. And if that's the decision you make, you know where to find me."

And with that, I mustered every ounce of willpower inside me and pushed off the barstool, turning on my heel before she could say anything else.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: **Yay! You liked Stav! I'm so glad to know that I'm not the only one who was a bit curious about the taming of Amelia. Thanks for all the lovely reviews!

Amelia and the SVM Universe are the creation of Ms. Charlaine Harris. Stav Kostopolous is from my screwed up mind. Remember, this is a prequel, so we'll see Sookie, but none of Mr. Deliciousness.

Now, without further ado, here is more of their story:

* * *

**Amelia's POV**

"He rejected me!"

The receiver was filled with laughter before my very pragmatic and apparently insensitive best friend Sookie Stackhouse responded, "He did not."

"What do you call it then? I asked, "He said no." I'd called her the minute I got back to the house from the bar, sending a very disappointed Adrian packing. He was good looking enough, fun to be around and did whatever I wanted. And what I wanted was to be alone to stew over stupid Stavros Kostopolous.

"He didn't tell you no, he just changed the terms."

"Same thing."

"It isn't," she said. I could visualize her shaking her head at me through the receiver. Sookie had always been a bit of a mother hen to me. I knew I wasn't the easiest person to be friends with - I was what my teenage therapist had called whimsical. I had the ability to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and I rarely didn't get my way. "He doesn't want to be your lap dog. That's hardly rejection. Heck, it's about time someone stood up to you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I scowled.

"It means that other than Pamela Northman, I've never known you to date someone with a backbone. And we all know she lost every bit of nerve around you, though she'd never admit it."

I smiled as I recalled my college interlude with Pam. She was the second, and last woman I'd had a relationship with, if you could call it that. I'd been wildly attracted to her. She was a study of contrasts – petite, but tough; beautiful, but hard; and most of all, she was sexy as hell. It had been fun while it lasted, but I could admit to myself that I wasn't cut out to be with women forever.

"My boyfriends have had backbones!" I exclaimed. "They don't do _everything_ I tell them to do."

"Oh really?" Sookie asked amusedly. "You're telling me that Tray Dawson went out and sold his prized motorcycle on a whim?"

"Well," I said, biting my lower lip. "He realized that it was bad for the environment."

"All by himself?"

"I may have taken him to a lecture about it," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"Is that how you got him to shave the beard he'd had for five years?"

"It was itchy!" I said defensively.

"Amelia, you know I love you, but you have a habit of dating men that can't resist you. You're like a beautiful little witch, weaving your spells around everyone around you. Maybe you've finally met your match."

"Pfft," I said. Stavros Kostopolous was hardly my match. Yes, I had pined over him for years, but who didn't have someone like that in their life? He was my first love, my first lover. That didn't make him my match. I could have any man I wanted, Stav included. I'd had him once, it'd be easy enough to get him again. "He's not my match. I hardly even noticed him."

"That's why you rushed home and called me Ames? Because you didn't notice him?"

"Shut up," I said, throwing my arms in the air. "You would think that my best friend would support me!"

"I do support you. I _am_ supporting you. Look, Ames, I'm just saying that you need to think about what he said. He didn't say no, he said not the way you wanted it. If you like him – and God knows you've been thinking about the elusive Stavros Kostopolous since I met you – then you need to tell him."

"Very enlightened Miss I've-Don't-Need-A-Boyfriend," I teased.

"Hey, what can you expect? I'm not too eager to jump into the dating pool after the mockery of a relationship I had with John Quinn. But this isn't about me. It's about you. Either decide to play his game, or find someone else to play with."

She was right. Of course she was. Sookie was always right. It didn't make it any easier to swallow though. I wasn't about to go run panting at Stav's feet. I wasn't that type of woman, and as much as I didn't respect men that did that to me, I didn't think Stav would respect me for doing it back. No. It would be a game, a battle of wills; I knew I could win; it would just take a little more planning than usual.

.

By eleven o'clock the next morning, I had come up with a plan. He hadn't shown up at ten, but then again I hadn't expected him to – he'd said as much.

I checked myself in the mirror one last time, ensuring that nothing was out of place. Soldiers donned armor; I donned a bikini. I knew my strengths. Everything looked exactly as I wanted it to. Sweet and innocent to the casual bystander, but I knew that once I was on the beach and my cover up was removed, those would be the last two adjectives any red blooded male would think.

Stav's family lived close to the Carmichael villa, something that had been as convenient ten years ago as it was today. I couldn't be sure that he'd be staying at his parent's house, but I could be almost certain that he'd make his way over there today, and what better place for me to take in the sun than on the stretch of beach outside of the villas? More appropriately, the stretch right outside their window?

The beach was busy, though not as busy as the rest of the beaches on Mykonos. There was something to be said for the secluded stretch of beach that serviced the grand villas that circled it. I quickly located a vacant spot and set up shop. I wasn't one of those fussy women that needed a cabana and an umbrella to enjoy the beach. I liked to commune with nature, to feel the hot sand beneath me as the sun beat down on my skin.

I had just stripped off my cover up when I heard a deep cough beside me. I turned my shaded eyes to the source and smiled. This was going to be easier than I thought.

"Funny running into you here," I said coyly, reaching into my beach bag and pulling out my bottle of sun block. I needed something to distract me from the way he looked in his board shorts. His body was better than I had remembered; better than I had imagined last night under all those clothes. He was sculpted like a Greek statue, which probably wasn't too far off.

"Yes, amazing that I'd be right outside my parent's house, isn't it? Or had you forgotten?" Stav asked, his eyes watching closely as I smoothed the lotion over my legs.

I shrugged and continued to rub the lotion in. "It's a great spot for sun."

"Mmm hmm," he said. "Is that all?"

"Whatever do you mean?" I asked innocently.

"I didn't show up."

"I noticed." I turned my head to concentrate on my sun block, not wanting my face to give anything away.

He didn't say anything. I heard him lower himself onto the beach next to me and looked over to see him watching me with hooded eyes.

"Where's Adrian?"

"I wouldn't know," I answered, turning to face him. "He walked me home and that's the last I saw of him." Actually, I knew exactly where he was, since he'd insisted on texting me his every move all morning. He was down at Paradise Beach, enjoying the party as much as he could since I wasn't there. I was pretty sure he'd find another way to occupy himself.

"That was considerate of him," he said with a smirk.

"It was, wasn't it? Some men still have manners."

He threw his head back in laughter. "Is that your way of insinuating that I don't?"

"If the shoe fits," I said with a shrug. "You're the one who left without saying goodbye last night."

"After you propositioned me. I'd say fair is fair."

"I'm a woman who knows what I want," I replied, feeling myself flush with anger. I hadn't come out here to be rejected. "If you didn't like the offer, all you had to do was say so."

His eyes darkened, his face becoming serious. "I didn't say I didn't like the offer Amelia. It took everything I had in me to stand up and walk away from you, but I wasn't kidding. You and me, there's something there; something more than a casual flirtation. I don't want be another conquest."

Whatever I'd been expecting, it hadn't been that. Not even close. I couldn't think of anything to say that would be an appropriate response.

"I know what I want, just like you," he continued. "And I know what I don't want. I don't want a week with you. I want more."

My hands stilled from their application of sun block as I processed his words. He couldn't have possibly been serious that he wanted more, could he? We hadn't seen each other in ten years. You didn't go from virtual strangers to a couple overnight. That just didn't happen.

"Lay down," he commanded, taking the bottle of sun block from my still hands.

I looked up at him with wide eyes, grateful that the dark lenses of my sunglasses gave me something to hide behind. "What?"

"Lay down," he said with a smile, waving the bottle in front of me. "I'll get your back."

I stared at him, looking back and forth between his eyes and the bottle in his hand before doing exactly what he commanded. So much for having a backbone.

I gasped when the cold lotion hit my skin, and had to stifle a groan when his deft fingers ran over my back. It was the single most sensual feeling I'd had in as long as I could remember. The strength of his hands was overwhelming as they ran across my back, massaging the lotion along my spine. Maybe I wasn't as immune to him as I thought. Maybe there was a reason that life had thrown us together again. It had been a ridiculous promise, a decade old, but maybe the fates were trying to tell me something.

"You're beautiful Amelia," he said, his voice close to my ear. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my body not to respond. I had thought that coming down here, wearing this little bikini would give me the advantage, but that had been taken away the minute he touched me. "More beautiful than I remembered," he continued. His hands lowered, stilling when they came to the tie at my back. I felt him untie the bow I'd haphazardly tied, and groaned when I felt him blow cool air on my spine.

"I wouldn't want you to get a tan line," he said, his voice back at my ear as his hands continued to tease their way down my back.

"Of course not," I said, my voice sounding smaller than I would have liked. Jesus, the man was able to twist me up into knots without even trying hard. I wasn't sure that I liked it.

"Do you remember when we went out on Dad's boat?" he asked, his fingers dancing along the sensitive skin at my side. "Just the two of us?"

How could I forget? That had been a life changing moment for my sixteen year old self. I nodded.

"You were wearing that hideous hot pink bikini." I smiled as I remembered. It had been hideous, not that I'd known at the time. It had been featured in Vogue; how could anything in Vogue be that bad?

"It was quite atrocious wasn't it?" I asked.

"Mmm. The only good thing about it was that it was easy to take off." He had worked his way up to my neck and shoulders, not even stopping as he untied the string there. "Almost as easy as this one." His breath was hot on my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

There was only way to respond to this kind of heat, and that was to turn up the fire. I turned my head, propping myself up on my elbows and letting the untied strings and triangles flutter to the ground below me. "You always did have a way of getting me naked."

I pushed myself up until I was sitting back on my feet, smiling with satisfaction as his eyes lowered by my bare breasts. He had seen it before, albeit years ago; and I wasn't the only woman who had elected to go topless on this beach, even if the decision hadn't been entirely mine.

"I have my talents," he said, dragging his eyes back to meet mine.

"Yes you do," I said with as much gumption as I could muster. I had found my footing and felt I was back on equal ground with him. Almost. You can never truly be on equal footing when you're topless – someone always had the advantage, and usually it was me. But not this time. I had to do something to turn the tables, and I wanted to see how far he was willing to take this. "Would you mind getting my chest?" I asked innocently.

"What?" he asked, his eyes bulging.

"My chest," I said with a smirk. Maybe I could regain the control after all. Unless he agreed to my proposal, in which case I'd be a lost cause for sure. "I would hate for it to get sunburned. And since you did such a thorough job on my back…" I trailed off with a shrug.

He looked around at the other beachgoers, none of whom were paying us any attention. There was nothing out of the ordinary happening between us, at least not to the bare eye. We were two adults on the beach. To any passersby, we would have looked like your average couple.

I saw his Adams apple bobble as he swallowed visibly and sat back. "There are probably laws about that," he said.

"About putting sunblock on someone?" I asked innocently. "My, this _is _a different world."

He shook his head and smiled. "I think the family over there," he nodded towards a mother with two small children, "might object to it."

"Oh! They're pro sunburn?" I teased.

"No you silly minx," he said with a laugh. "I just think they'd object to my method of application."

"Whatever do you mean?" I smirked.

"I take my duties as a member of the anti sunburn party very seriously," he said with mock solemnity. "And everyone knows that the best application of sunblock is in two parts. First, with your hands." He reached out and traced my clavicle with his finger tips, leaning in until his face was inches from mine.

"Yes?" I asked breathlessly. Shit. Maybe this plan wasn't going to give me the advantage. "What's the second part? You use your hands and then…?"

"Then, I use my mouth," he said. Before I could even think, his lips was on mine. He smiled and pushed my sunglasses off my eyes as I emitted a small whimper, his tongue pressing against the edge of my lips to seek entrance. I was putty in his hands, unable to do anything other than give into the sensation of his hot mouth against mine as the sun beat down around us.

I squirmed closer to him, wanting more, needing full contact. At that moment I didn't care who was watching, or that I was giving in on my game so easily. It felt right; it felt perfect. There was nothing in the world other than this man from my past.

"Stav!" I cried out when he pulled away, running a hand down the side of my face.

He chuckled and shook his head. "There is plenty of time for that Amelia," he said. "But now is not the time or place." He inclined his head towards the people around us, many of whom looked a lot more interested in us after our public display.

"Then let's go back to my villa," I said, reaching to grab my bag. "No one is there."

He reached out and grabbed my wrists, stopping me from packing. "No," he said.

"No?" I asked, shaking my head to clear it. "You don't want to…?"

"Believe me," he said. "I do. More than anything. But I told you last night that I am not going to be a fling for you; and you are not going to be a fling for me. We need to build the anticipation, let ourselves stew for awhile. Hopping into bed right now wouldn't be a wise decision."

"It sounds like a brilliant idea to me," I said petulantly. "We're adults. Why do we have to pretend we don't want each other?"

"I'm not pretending I don't want you Amelia, because God knows that I do," he said, his hand traveling up my neck until he came to my chin. He tilted my face up to meet his. "But that isn't the game we're playing this time around."

"Then what game are we playing?" I asked.

He shook his head and smiled, refusing to answer my question. I felt like a giant ball of confusion and anxiety. I wasn't used to being like this; I didn't like not being in control of the situation, but God help me, there was nothing more that I wanted than to stay with this man.

"Have dinner with me tonight," he commanded.

"Do you think you can just order me around like that?" I asked defiantly.

He shrugged, not releasing my chin from his grip. "It's not an order."

"Sounded like it to me," I said.

He looked into my eyes, the barrier of my sunglasses long forgotten next to me. I felt naked; more naked than I was. He was looking into me, not just at me.

"You'll be there," he said with a smile. "Be ready at eight."

And for the second time in twelve hours, he was gone.


	4. Chapter 3

I was a patient man. I was renowned for it.

I was also, apparently, an incredibly stupid man. There was nothing else that could explain why I had refused to take the woman across the table from me to bed, despite her pleas. This was the third time we'd gone together to dinner together, and my resolve lessened more each time I saw her.

"What?" she asked, patting the corner of her mouth and frowning. "Do I have something on my face?"

I shook my head.

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like something's wrong with me." Her lips turned down in a frown.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with you Amelia Carmichael." There wasn't. She was beautiful and spirited and confident. I had never met a woman quite like her.

"Says the man who won't sleep with me." Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she took a sip of her drink and surveyed me. "Why exactly is that again?"

"I've told you."

"Tell me again."

I sighed and leaned my elbows on the table in front of me. This was the second time tonight she'd made me explain this to her; it wasn't that she didn't understand, she just wouldn't believe me.

"There's something different about you," I said, switching tactics from the standard _I don't want to be another notch on your bedpost _line. "Something about you makes me want to savor the time before we have sex."

"We've already had sex," she pointed out, draining the bottom of her cocktail and waving the waitress down for another one. The tavern was deserted; it was late enough that those who were still out were at the local beach club, and those who weren't out were sound asleep in their beds. We fell in the middle, for I did not want to go to a club, and all Amelia wanted was for us to go to bed, not that we would be getting any sleep in if she had her way.

"Ten years ago," I responded.

She shrugged. "So? Ten years, ten days, ten minutes, what's the difference?"

I couldn't explain it to myself, much less her. There was something that made me feel protective of her; something that made me treat her different from all the other women I'd dated. I had never turned down an offer of sex with a beautiful woman, unless I was already involved with another one. It wasn't that I shied away from it, but I needed to know that it was something more for Amelia.

Believe me, I knew how ridiculous it sounded that I would feel something like this for a woman I barely knew. Our paths had separated too long ago to claim any real knowledge – I could hardly claim to know my seventeen year old self, we were so different from one another. Yet, I felt like I knew Amelia. And, having grown up in a household where superstition meant everything, I couldn't ignore my gut feeling about Amelia.

I had tried to shrug off the instinct to claim her as my own the night I saw her again. I had been drinking, and she had always been the one that got away. I figured that I would laugh at myself the next day and resume business as usual, but then I saw her lying down on the beach in front of my parent's house and the feeling had returned. It wasn't something I could deny, hell it wasn't something I wanted to deny. I'd never felt this way about any woman. I owed it to myself, and to her to play this right.

"What's another few days?" I asked back.

"What's the point?" she asked, thanking the waitress as she dropped her drink off. "We have to live in the moment. Seize the day."

I raised my eyebrow at her, but said nothing.

She smiled and began to sing. "Don't be afraid and don't delay."

"Afraid?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Proud and defiant, we'll slay the giant. Let us seize the day."

"What is that?" I asked.

She laughed and shook her head. "Newsies?"

"Whatsies?"

"Newsies," she repeated. "The musical?" I shrugged and shook my head. "My goodness, did you ever watch television?"

"Not particularly," I said with a shrug. "Mom never approved of it, and they kept me busy learning the business from the time I was twelve. I spent most of my free time learning and reading comic books until I was seventeen and discovered the allure of girls."

"Comic books?" she gasped. "Thank goodness none of this came out when I was sixteen! I would never have lost my virginity to someone that read comic books!"

"There's nothing wrong with comic books," I said defensively. Granted, I hadn't read them in years, but they'd been a staple when I was growing up. "And you did lose your virginity to a comic book reader."

"I'm not going to pick that fight with you," she said, shaking her head. "Please tell me you weren't a dungeon master too?"

"No," I said with a smirk.

"Good," she replied, with a nod.

"Sakis was the dungeon master," I added, and chuckled when her draw dropped.

"Oh my God, you're such a dork," she said with a giggle.

"You're the one singing a song from a movie called Newsies, and I'm the dork? Need I remind you that you're the one who wants to get into my pants?"

"Dorks are sexy," she said with a shrug. "Or, at least, you're sexy and I'm willing to overlook your inner dork, oh wise wizard."

"Shut up Carmichael."

"Do you have your polyhedral dice with you tonight?" she teased. "Do we need to roll them to see if you're going to give in and sleep with me already? Or will the Master not allow that?"

"You are in for a world of trouble Amelia," I said, tipping my glass back and signaling for the waitress to bring another.

"I look forward to it," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

.

The night breeze was cool and balmy as we left the tavern. We were the last customers remaining, the sleepy eyed wait staff watching us expectantly as we finished our drinks, smiling when I asked for our ticket. The stars sparkled in the clear dark sky above us, the sound of the party on Paradise Beach wafted on the air of the otherwise quiet night.

I squeezed Amelia's hand, which was tucked in my own as it had been every night I'd walked her home. The bones of her fingers felt so small and delicate, but there was power there; power I didn't quite understand.

"You're such a gentleman," she said, stepping closer to me as she rubbed her thumb along the pulse at my wrist. "Always walking the lady home and leaving her with a chaste kiss at her door step."

It had been difficult to keep the kisses innocent when she'd tried every wile and tactic to break me, but somehow I had prevailed. It was a good thing my timeline for chastity was ending, because I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out.

"My mother taught me well," I said, smiling down at her.

She looked up at me, her face illuminated in the moonlight. "A little too well if you ask me," she said with a smirk as we reached the door to her villa.

"When are you leaving the island?" I asked, not wanting to know the answer. I knew she wouldn't tell me; she hadn't answered the question the first ten times I asked it.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Now is not a time to talk about that."

"When is?" I asked, trying to stop the frustration from coming across in my voice.

"Later," she reassured. "Tonight is too perfect to ruin it with talk of parting."

I wanted to tell her that there was no need to ever have that conversation, no need to part. We were both fortunate enough that we did not have to have jobs; there was nothing tying us anywhere. We could pursue this, let it run its course and see where it went. Somehow, I didn't think her free spirit would appreciate that conversation at the moment.

I opened my mouth to respond and closed it when she shut her eyes and inhaled deeply. "I love the smell of the sea at night," she said, opening them back up and smiling up at me. "It's magical, this time of the night, when all the respectable people are tucked away in their beds and the streets are quiet."

I looked down at her quizzically. She had a tendency to romanticize things; it was one of my favorite qualities about her. She practically glowed positivity. As far as I could tell, she had never taken the time to be unhappy.

"Oh to be in Greece with a handsome man on a night like this," she said, stepping closer and wrapping her arms securely around my waist. "I must have done something right." She nuzzled her head against my chest, her breath dancing across the cotton of my shirt.

"I'm too tired to sleep," she continued, tipping her head up to look at me. "I feel alive. Can you see the energy pouring off of us?"

I chuckled and shook my head. Amelia was something of a new age witch, constantly aware of her surroundings and her place in the universe. While I did not see the world through her eyes, I was endlessly amazed and amused by her.

"Oh poo," she said, shaking her head. "Let's walk along the beach," she said, nodding to the alleyway that led to the quiet beach behind her villa. She released my hand and ran towards the beach, her laughter filling the air as she looked back at me.

I stood rooted in place as I watched her kick off her shoes and dart around her villa out of sight. I reluctantly followed, knowing the longer I stayed, the harder it would be to leave, but she was irresistible when she was like this.

I stopped on her porch, leaning down to remove my shoes and roll up the cuffs of my pants, and when I rounded the corner to the beach, she was nowhere in sight. My heart stilled, my breath catching in my throat. One in the morning was not a time for single women to be on the beach by themselves, no matter what neighborhood you were in. There were lecherous men, local and tourists, who would see no problem accosting a beautiful woman who was alone.

"Amelia!" I called out, trying to squash the panic I felt inside of me. "Amelia!" I called again when I didn't get a response.

I heard a splash, followed closely by a giggle and my eyes darted to the sea. There, in a beam of moonlight on the water, was the dark head of the woman I had been searching for. My panic was replaced quickly with irritation, mainly at myself for getting worked up over something so simple.

"What are you doing?" I asked, making my way down the stretch of sand and picking the clothing she'd discarded on her way to the water. I swallowed audibly when I came to the water's edge and saw the scrap of lace that was an excuse for underwear. My body responded immediately to the thought of her in the water with no barriers against her naked skin. She was going to be the death of me.

"I'm swimming," she said, with a laugh. "Come in, the water's gorgeous!"

I looked behind me, along the short stretch of white beach I had come across her on days before. The memory of her sitting up, proud and topless, winning the game I had initiated without even a scrap of modesty flashed before my eyes. I groaned as I recalled the way her breasts had looked in the sunlight, knowing I could, and likely would, see them in the moonlight.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said, placing the clothes I had collected on a rock well above the lapping water.

"Why not?" she asked, spinning around effortlessly in the water. "We need to pay homage to Mother Earth, to thank her for this moment. What better way than to enjoy the elements she provided?" She stopped spinning and looked at me, her eyes piercing mine through the darkness. "Unless, of course you're afraid."

I scoffed, brushing the sand off my hands. "What would I be afraid of?"

"I dunno," she said, shrugging and dislodging the water around her as she began to rise. The tops of her breasts visible as the waves danced across her skin. "Maybe you're afraid of getting caught." She rose another inch, revealing her chest in all its glory. "Maybe you're afraid of me."

I groaned and closed my eyes, shaking my head. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Really?" she asked, her voice filled with laughter. "You look pretty scared standing there with your eyes closed. It's just a body," she said. I opened my eyes, unable to stop them from roaming across her exposed skin. It was not just a body; it was Amelia's body. My fingers itched to touch her. Maybe I was being ridiculous. "Come on," she said, rising further.

"Stay in the water," I commanded, knowing that if she came at me wet and naked I wouldn't be responsible for my actions.

"Only if you come in," she said, stopping. "If you dare."

I shook my head and reached to unbutton my shirt. I couldn't believe that I was susceptible to such a childish taunt. That was why I was doing this, I told myself. It had nothing to do with wanting to be close to her naked body. Nothing at all.

That being said, she was irresistible like this, bathed in the moonlight. The brown skin that had taunted me all night exposed for me and me alone. I felt my resolve dissipate. What harm would come from a little taste of what was to come?

I peeled the shirt off, smiling when I heard her gasp.

My hands stilled at my waistband. "You're sure you want this?" I asked.

She licked her lips, smiling without looking at my face. "Yes," she said. "Positive."

I slowly kicked out of my pants, fully aware that I was putting on a show for one. This would only heighten the anticipation for what was to come. I was resolved that it wouldn't come tonight, no matter what she did. But a naked frolic in the sea would be the perfect precursor for when I did give in.

The water was warm against my skin, swirling about my ankles as I waded in towards my final destination. Amelia had gone back under the water, only her head visible. Her eyes roved over my body as I walked closer, widening at my evident state of arousal. I was nearly at her, close enough that I could reach out and touch her when she disappeared under the glassy waves.

I frowned to myself, hoping she knew what she was doing. Night swimming wasn't very safe, regardless of how calm the waters were. I moved forward when she didn't resurface, feeling my heart speed up at the thought of what could happen to her out here. I was about to go under and search for her when I felt two small hands on my legs. Her head emerged from the water at my waist, too close for comfort.

"Not so fast," I said, hauling her up against my body. Her breasts pressed against my bare chest as she caught her breath. "What did you think you were doing?"

"I was getting a better look," she said, rubbing her body against mine. "Up close and personal."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, running my hand down her spine and pulling her hips roughly against mine. "Are you my personal inspector?"

She laughed, shaking her head and causing droplets of water to splay across the relatively placid water. "Not yet," she said, tipping her head up. "You haven't given me permission."

"Do you always wait for permission?" I teased, groaning as she wiggled against me.

"Not usually," she responded solemnly. "Only when I care; only when it matters."

"And you think this matters?" I asked, daring to hope that she was finally giving me the signal I was waiting for.

She bit her bottom lip and nodded. "I think it does. I don't think we would be thrown together again unless we are supposed to do something about it."

That was all the affirmation I needed, all that I was waiting for. Before she could say anything more, my lips were on hers, urging them to open to me fully. She tasted of ouzo, salt water, and something that was essentially her. The combination was heady, and I felt myself melt against her body, grateful for the buoyancy the water provided me.

Our mouths clashed, our hands roaming freely against every inch of available skin. She whimpered and said my name as I set about devouring her neck, tugging at my hair as my lips traveled lower and came into contact with the tops of her breasts.

I backed up towards the shore, never diverting my hands or lips from her body. I stopped when the water was shallow enough for her to stand and kneeled in front of her, worshipping her like the Goddess that she was. She looked ethereal, bathed in the moonlight as she emerged from the sea.

"Where did you come from?" I asked, almost reverently as I devoured her body with my eyes.

She giggled and looked down at me. "New Orleans," she answered simply.

Ignoring her pithy response, I leaned forward and placed a kiss on the skin over her belly button. Her fingers twined in my hair, her name escaping my lips as I kissed a trail up her body, stopping only when I reached her lips.

"This isn't a game," I said, half in question.

"This isn't a game," she repeated, shaking her head.

"You can't toss me over like the other men you've been with." Not that I wanted to bring them up now, but I had to reassure myself.

"You're nothing like the other men I've been with," she responded, clinging tightly against me. "When I'm with you, I feel whole. I didn't even know I felt empty until I saw you again. I feel like the world is raging around me and you bring the calm."

I nodded, picking her up in my arms and walking towards her darkened villa. There were no words to respond to that; it was what I had been unable to define.

"What about our clothes?" she asked, giggling as I left them behind.

"What about them?" I asked, not breaking my stride. I was a man on a mission, finally getting what I wanted. Nothing was going to stop me.

"Don't you think we should go back and get them?" She pulled herself and looked over my shoulder. "We probably shouldn't leave them on the beach."

I shook my head, leaning down to press my lips against hers. "We won't need them where we're going."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**APOV**

I stretched, feeling gloriously languorous as the early morning light spilled through the window. I kept my eyes shut, relishing in those last minutes of sleep before facing the reality of the day, and burrowed my face into the soft pillow below me.

A low chuckle sounded from close to me; too close to be the usual beach goers that normally broke the morning silence. I bolted upright, the unfamiliar sound pulling me out of the sleepy haze I enjoyed most mornings. The cool white sheet pooled around my waist, the air hitting the skin of my chest as I identified the source of the sound. My confusion quickly turned into pleasure at the sight before me. It wasn't often that I let a man stay long enough to see me in the morning, but this was Stav; this was different.

I smiled, suppressing a laugh as his eyes strayed lazily to my chest and a matching smile crossed his face.

"Good morning," he said, leaning across the bed to brush a gentle kiss on my lips.

"Good morning," I responded, reaching out to clasp the front of his shirt, the lust I'd been feeling these past few days rushing to the surface. There was no way one night of scratching would take care of the Greek itch in front of me. In my lust-filled haze I realized something wasn't right, but I didn't particularly care. I had one objective and that was to get Stav naked and back under this sheet. It was only when I began to toy with his buttons that it hit me.

"You're dressed!" I exclaimed, pulling back go survey the white button down shirt and khaki pants he was wearing.

He laughed, pulling me towards him. "Good observation."

"But..." I trailed off, trying to remember if I'd missed something. "You left our clothes at the beach."

"I went and got them this morning," he said, brushing his lips across my temple. "Yours too. Over there." He pointed to my dress strewn haphazardly across a chair.

"Naked?" I gasped. I had no problem with nudity, but the thought of my Stav traipsing down to the beach without a stitch of clothing for all the world to see was more than I could handle. I'd just gotten him back last night, and I didn't want to share just yet. Or ever.

"Yes. Why?" he asked, pulling back to smile down at me. "Sorry you missed the show?"

"Did you have a big audience?" I asked.

"Giant," he responded with a laugh. "Hundreds of eyes were on me."

I didn't say anything, choosing instead to lean back against the headboard and watch him as he readied himself for the day. I felt jealous, insanely jealous that someone else - lots of someone else's apparently - had seen the man I had slept with naked only hours after I had. It was irrational. I knew it was irrational; this was Greece for Pete's sake, not Amish country. We had sex. It didn't mean he belonged to me, it didn't mean that we were anything more than two people that had sex. Two people that have sex do not get to feel jealous about something like this. He was a man with a beautiful body; a beautiful body that I'd tasted again last night. No. No, I couldn't think about it like that. He had been on the beach naked. Big deal. It wasn't as if I hadn't participated in my fair share of public nudity.

"Are you jealous?" he asked with a smirk, pulling me out of my internal pep talk. When I defiantly shook my head no, he smiled ruefully. "Because I'd be jealous of the thought of you out on the beach naked without me."

"You would?" I asked, sitting up a bit straighter. Ha! I wasn't insane to be jealous apparently.

"I would," he replied, his eyes roaming over my naked skin. "You're far too beautiful like this." His hand reached out, his fingertips gently tracing my clavicle, trailing down further until they rested at the slope of my breast.

I felt myself blush under his assessing gaze. Well, that was curious. I couldn't even remember the last time I blushed; that was definitely Sookie's territory. I had always been confident about my body, never even doubted that it would please my lovers. Yet, here I was, insanely pleased that Stav was attracted to me. I couldn't even begin to think what my shrink's explanation of that would be.

"How do you think I feel?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood, to distract myself. "I finally get you naked, after begging for days, and then you go share yourself with hundreds of people?"

"Begging was it?" he chuckled. "Hmm, I rather liked you when you were groveling."

"Stop changing the subject," I said, my tone teasingly serious. "What am I supposed to think when it takes me three days to get you naked, and yet you run out and show all the people on the beach?"

"I never said people," he responded with a smirk.

I shook my head, wondering what he meant by that. Was this some sort of language barrier? We hadn't had any problems before, but then again I'm sure even Han Solo had trouble understanding Chewie all the time. "What?"

"I never said people saw me," he repeated, just as cryptically.

"Okay," I said, nodding. Maybe if I talked slowly, he'd understand. I giggled at the thought of how it would look, me as the uncouth American thinking slowing down and speaking louder would help, but hell, I didn't know what else to do. "But...you said hundreds of eyes saw-"

"Oh sure. Hundreds of eyes did see me. They just didn't belong to people. They belonged to the fish, some birds, the stray cat or two."

My jaw dropped as I realized what he had done to me. The man had wanted me to be jealous, not that he hadn't received the desired result. But I didn't think I was stupid enough to fall for it. I reached beside me, picking up the pillow and throwing it violently at his head. "Oh you! You jerk!"

He laughed, ducking the pillow and leaning back on his arms. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not."

"You're going to be!" I retorted. "See what being a big, fat jerk gets you!"

"Amelia," he said soothingly. "I thought it was funny. I like seeing you all jealous. Makes me feel important."

"You're still a jerk," I huffed, looking away.

"Do you have a thing for jerks?" he asked. I didn't respond. "Because, it appears that I have a thing for stubborn brunettes who like to go around topless."

I looked down, belatedly covering my breasts with the sheet. He groaned, reaching out and tugging it back down. "Don't ever do that on my account," he said, closing the distance between us and leaving me breathless with a kiss. "As far as I'm concerned, you should always be naked."

The anger I felt melted away, replaced by a stronger emotion, one that I needed to take care of right away. I gasped, pulling him towards me and tugging at his shirt.

"Good idea," I mumbled against his mouth. "God why are you wearing so many clothes?" My fingers continued to tug at the buttons that secured the dreaded fabric across his chest.

"Shit," he said, jumping away from me and sitting at the edge of the bed, facing away from me.

"What?" I asked, stunned at the loss of his body heat. "What's wrong?" Had I done something wrong? He hadn't complained last night. What changed this morning?

He turned his head, smiling ruefully over his shoulder. "I have to go."

I frowned, unable to come up with an appropriate response.

"What? You're leaving? You have something better to do than stay in bed with me?" I asked indignantly.

He shook his head, his eyes sparkling with laughter. "Amelia, there is nothing I want more in this world than to stay in bed with you all day. But, I cannot."

"Why?" I asked with a pout. "What could possibly be so important that you have to rush off like this?"

"My sister's wedding," he said.

"What about it?"

He shook his head and smiled, his eyes darting quickly down to my exposed chest and back up to my face. "Amelia, there are few things that could make me leave you like this knowing that only a thin sheet separates me from all of you, but Elena's wedding is one of them. It's tonight."

He turned away, reaching down to pull his shoes onto his feet. I smiled, feeling the power I held as I watched him. I silently moved from my position against the headboard and crawled across the bed, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my chest into his back.

He gasped, turning his head to meet my eyes. "Tonight? But it's only nine-thirty. You've got loads of time. Are you sure I can't convince you to stay for a little bit?" I asked, nibbling on his ear.

"Amelia," he groaned, leaning back into my body. "I've got to go. My mom will kill me if I'm not there to help set up."

"Oh," I said, ignoring his protests and running my hands over his shoulders and down the front of his shirt. "I wouldn't want her to kill you."

"Not when you can do it instead?" he asked with a groan.

"Me?" I asked innocently. "Why in the world would you think I'd want to kill you?" My hands trailed lower, stopping at the waistband of his pants.

He groaned, turning around and flipping me onto my back in one swift move. My startled laughter filled the air, and I looked up to meet his dark brown eyes boring into my green ones. He leaned down, capturing my mouth with his, his hands roaming across my body and eliciting a primal response.

"I thought you had to go," I said breathlessly, between kisses.

"I did," he replied, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his sun kissed skin.

"And now you don't?"

"No. I still do."

"But?"

"But you need to be taught a lesson about temptation."

"Oh really?"

"Mmm," he murmured, nipping at my neck. "Really. And since I'm older and wiser, it's the least I can do to teach it to you."

.

Thirty minutes, and many lessons later, I watched as Stav dressed.

"Are you sure you have to go right now?" I asked, sitting up, despite feeling like a giant puddle of rubber bones. The man knew what he was doing in the bedroom department, I could give him that. I had never had a lover that could elicit the kinds of responses that Stav could, even that Italian guy I'd dated briefly in college, and he knew all kinds of tricks.

"Yes," he said, looking over his shoulder and laughing at my pout. "It is not every day that your baby sister gets married."

"I suppose not," I said. "But what am I supposed to do all by myself tonight?" I sounded whiny, I knew it, but I was genuinely at a loss. Before I'd run into Stav, I had found plenty to do on the island. Now the thought of spending an evening by myself – or worse, with someone other than Stav – was just depressing.

"You'll come to the wedding," he said, walking around the bed and placing a kiss on my forehead.

"What?" I screeched. "I cannot go to your sister's wedding. I haven't seen her in ten years! You can't just show up at a wedding." I shook my head.

"You won't just be showing up," he said with a chuckle. "You'll be my date."

"And unaccounted for! It's not like they planned for me to come."

"Amelia," he said, shaking his head. "This is Mykonos, not the Ritz. The world does not end if an extra person shows up at the wedding. Besides, I already told Elena I would be bringing you."

"You what? When? Did you even think about consulting me? What if I'd said no?"

He raised his eyebrow sardonically, looking down at me from his stance. "You've been throwing yourself at me quite effectively for the last three nights; I thought I might be able to twist your arm."

"Ineffectively," I said, with a huff.

"What?"

"I said, ineffectively." He looked confused. "It didn't work, my throwing myself at you."

He laughed, raking a hand through his dark, thick hair. "I'd say it was pretty effective last night."

"Yes, well," I said, squirming beneath his assessing gaze. Those two endless pools reminded me exactly how I'd felt last night, and just a few minutes ago, when I'd been writhing beneath him, begging him to touch me.

"I don't have anything to wear," I said, crossing my arms. I didn't; I hadn't planned on anything formal when I'd packed for my three week vacation on Mykonos, and somehow I didn't think my flip flops would be appropriate.

"Wear a dress," he said. "Something simple. You'll be beautiful, no matter what you wear."

"Says you," I said, frowning. Didn't he know that women couldn't just show up to meet their lover's families wearing the same dress you'd wear to the beach?

He smiled, leaning down and brushing a kiss on my forehead. "I'll be by at four to get you."

.

I flung the door open dramatically, waving Stav in wordlessly as I returned to the bedroom. Clothes were strewn everywhere, nothing good enough to wear to the wedding of my lover's sister, especially considering this would be the first time in ten years that I would be seeing most of these people. I had spent almost every day at his house when I was sixteen, could remember everything in vivid detail. The last thing I wanted to do was waltz in unannounced, looking like some gaudy American come back to screw their prized son, which was the message that some of my clothes were giving off. Tight and short may be a good look for a date, but miles of exposed thigh sent the wrong message to someone's mother.

"You know," Stav said, leaning against the door jam as he surveyed the room, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you had another lover with the way the bed is rumpled."

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention to the pile of clothes on the end of my bed.

"As if I'd have time for another lover."

"It's been six hours," he said, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. "There's a lot that you can do in six hours."

I turned around in his arms, looking up into his dark eyes and shook my head. "I think I had my fill last night and this morning."

He frowned, tightening his arms around me. "That's too bad."

"Why's that?"

"I was hoping we could get one more in." He closed the gap between us, his lips demanding my response. I felt my legs buckle beneath me, swept away by the sensations that were coursing through my veins. My hands took on a mind of their own, entwining in his hair, the smooth strands falling between my fingers. I heard myself moan as I thought of mussing him up and forced myself to push away.

"What?" he asked, reaching out to clasp thin air as I jumped away from him.

"Oh no you don't!" I shook my head, continuing to back away. "I just spent the last two hours scrubbing, brushing and primping so that I'd be presentable for your sister's wedding. No way am I going to let you mess me up. I don't have time to start over."

He frowned, sitting back on the bed behind him. "We don't have to be there for fifteen minutes."

"Charming," I said sarcastically. "What girl doesn't want to sign up for a quick tumble? I don't even know what I'm going to wear. I look like a mess..."

"Melie," he said, reaching out to clasp my hand and pull me towards him. He hadn't called me Melie since that day I had left on the ferry. I had thought that girl was long forgotten, but that one word brought me back to that day, the turmoil I'd felt at leaving him, and the ridiculous way I had believed that fate and destiny would bring us back together. Well, I guess I wasn't wrong for believing since here I was with him again.

"Melie," he repeated, looking up into my eyes. "You look beautiful. You'll look beautiful in whatever you choose, though I have to say I'm quite fond if what you've got on now."

I looked down at the blush bra and half slip I'd put on before he knocked on the door. "I'll bet you do." I smiled down at him, stepping forward and wrapping my arms around his shoulders loosely. "I just don't want to make a bad impression."

"Not possible," he said. "Mama still talks about you as the one who got away. Says you ruined me for all other girls, which I might have to agree with."

"Ruined you, did I?"

"Absolutely," he said with a nod.

He looked so charming, sitting on my bed, saying exactly the words I wanted to hear. It was like we were back on that dock, promising to wait for each other. Silly teenage declarations that had meant the world to me then, and surprisingly meant a lot now. Fate had pushed us back together, even if only for a short time. Who was I to question the workings of the gods when I was in this magical place?

"Pick something out for me," I commanded, taking a step back and sweeping my arm widely at the clothes strewn around me. "I have had everything on and off a thousand times. It's all blurring together."

"You want me to dress you?" he asked, quirking his eyebrow. I nodded. "You? Amelia Carmichael, want _me _to make a decision or you?"

"Yes," I said, flopping down on the bed next to him. "And fast. We don't have a lot of time thanks to your shenanigans."


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**SPOV**

"The wedding is so beautiful," Amelia said with a sigh, resting her head against my shoulder as we watched the waves lap the shore.

The party was going strong behind us, the sounds of the band filling the otherwise quiet night air. It was exactly what I had expected it to be when Elena announced she was getting married. We had left the small church and returned to the house I'd grown up in, only it was like nothing I had ever seen. There were thousands of lights illuminating the tables set up for dinner, strung from a concoction of invisible wire running from the house to the low wall that acted as a barrier to the beach traffic. The sun was slowly sinking, casting shadows across the make shift dance floor that was empty for the moment.

"Elena," she continued, looking up at me, "is so beautiful."

"She is," I admitted. I had never seen my baby sister look the way she had today – so happy and radiant, leaping into the new life she'd chosen with no fear. She was so young to get married; too young I had thought when she first told me. I had tried to tell her to wait until she was older – there was no rush when you were twenty-two years old. She had quickly dismissed my protests. She had found the other part of her in Dimitri, and did not see a reason to wait.

I looked down at the woman at my side, wondering what would happen from here. She was like a whirlwind that had entered my life, turning everything I had thought upside down. I had known after our first date that my instincts had been right. I wanted her, and I wanted her forever. She was vibrant, enigmatic, and she pulled me into her orbit with one smile. I was compelled to be around her, unable to stop myself if I wanted to, not that I wanted to.

"Not as beautiful as you," I added, brushing my lips across her temple.

She shook her head, her laughter filling my senses. "You do not have to say that. I do not need your words of flattery. I'm a sure thing tonight."

"Good to hear," I responded with a chuckle, "but that's not why I said it. It is true. All the eyes were on the bride, but my eyes were on you."

"Oh," she said, looking down at where our hands linked. "Well, thank you." Her tone was dismissive, as if she wasn't sure of the proper response.

"When are you leaving?" I asked, needing to know the answer. I could not avoid it anymore.

"Ready to get rid of me that quick?" she asked flippantly.

"No," I shook my head. "Of course not."

"I thought we agreed not to talk about this," she said, twisting her fingers in mine.

"We can't avoid it forever," I responded quietly.

"Can't we pretend that we can go on like this? Can't we leave it up to the fates?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "We did that last time. This was their answer."

She was quiet, nuzzling her head into the crook of my arm. I could give her the time she needed to respond.

"Next week," she said, finally.

"Next week?"

She nodded. "I am supposed to go home next week. What about you? When are you supposed to be back in Athens?"

"Next week," I responded.

"Oh," she said. "Well, then that's perfect."

Perfect? How was that perfect? How was I supposed to leave this woman in seven days when we'd just found each other again?

"I mean," she continued. "We both are supposed to leave in a week. Neither of us will be left here alone with the memories."

I looked away from her. I had been left before; I had been the one that had to live in the place where we had been together. I hadn't liked being on the island much after that, only coming when I had to, even after all these years. I would not be here now, if not for my sister's wedding.

She broke the silence, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Can we not talk about this now? We are here, on this beautiful night under the stars. It is a night for romance, not a night for sadness."

"Alright. We do not need to talk about this now." I wanted to talk about it now. I did not like uncertainty. Or maybe it was certain, and I didn't want to admit it. Maybe she would leave on a plane for America and I would never see her again. The thought made me sick to my stomach. Would she be able to go back to the life she had left as if nothing had happened? Would I be able to return to Athens and resume my normal routine? Would she go back and begin to see someone else? Would I? I couldn't imagine dating the girls in Athens now that I had another taste of the one girl who could capture my heart.

"Tell me about your life in America," I asked, not wanting to return to the festivities quite yet.

She looked up at me and shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything." Everything. "Tell me about this roommate of yours."

"Sookie?"

"Yes, Sookie. What kind of name is that anyway? Is it common?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "No. Not common at all. It's a nickname, but it suits her. Gosh, I can't imagine calling her Susannah. It sounds so prim and proper. And Susie?" Her body shook. "She's not a blonde sorority girl, though I guess she fills the blonde part. And, well she is quite perky, but no."

"You are good friends?"

"The best. She is unlike anyone I have ever met. She is beautiful, and intelligent. She got a job at Dad's publishing house and has worked her way up the ranks. Dad says she's a shining star in the organization." She smiled ruefully, as if recalling a memory. "And she's sweet, and kind; she's nurturing and caring; she is beyond proper. She keeps me in line."

"Do you need to be kept in line, then?" I asked with a laugh. I could imagine that she probably did if her behavior on the first night was any indication. She hadn't exactly been showing much restraint with Adrian, or the other string of men that were waiting on her hand and foot. No, I could definitely imagine Amelia getting herself into trouble.

"Oh yes," Amelia said, nodding against me. "I have a bad habit of collecting strays."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I'm forever bringing home project men."

"Project men?"

"Guys that need a little work before they're ready to be out in public."

"Am I one of your 'project men'?" I asked with a laugh.

"You?" she asked. "No. No, you're perfect. I wouldn't change a thing about you. I know Sookie would approve of you, and she is not exactly easy to please when it comes to men."

"Picky, is she?"

"Well, not exactly. She's just had some bad experiences, but I think she'll know when she meets the right one. Sometimes it just works out like that. In the meantime, we have each other, and Pam."

I sat up at the familiar name. "Pam?"

"Yep," she said with a nod. "Pam Northman. She's Sookie's oldest friend, and after a bit of a bumpy start, we became good friends too."

"Is this the Pam that you told me about?"

"What? Oh!" she laughed. "That first night. Yes, that's the one. My first foray into women."

I swallowed, feeling like someone had shoved a gym sock down my throat. "First?"

"Yes. Well, the only one that counted at least. Really," she said thoughtfully, "she's the only person other than you that has ever mattered."

"And she still matters?"

"Of course. Oh, but not like that. She was insatiable. I couldn't keep up with her."

"I can't imagine," I said, recalling the way Amelia was in bed. If she couldn't keep up with this Pam, then I don't know who could.

"Yeah, me either. But...enough about Pam. What about you? What is your life like in Athens?"

I looked up into the sky, taking a moment before answering her. "I live in an apartment Dad owns. It is in a quiet neighborhood, surrounded by old, wealthy people."

"Sounds thrilling," she said, drolly. "Do you have a roommate at least? Someone to remind you that you're young when your neighbors are swilling brandy and smoking cigars?"

"No. Not anymore."

"That sounds ominous," she chuckled. "And juicy; and like something I need to know more about."

"It's nothing," I said. It was something, but not something she needed to know about. "It was a long time ago."

"How long?" she persisted.

"Six months." Six months since I'd last seen her; six months since she'd told me she was moving to Paris with the Englishman she'd been seeing. It would have ended anyway; I hadn't even wanted her to move in, only she had been without a place to stay. She was young, an American exchange student who had stayed past her visa. She, in many ways, reminded me of Amelia, which was one of the reasons I had put up with her for as long as I did.

"Six months isn't a long time," Amelia said, standing up and looking down at me. "Ten years is a long time; six months is the blink of an eye. What happened to him?"

"Her," I corrected. I felt a smug sense of satisfaction when I saw her jaw drop; she had apparently not thought it was that kind of a roommate.

"Girlfriend?" she asked. I nodded. "Oh, wow. A live in girlfriend?"

"Kind of," I said, grabbing her hands. "She had no place to stay, and I didn't want her to go back home. She only lived there for a month."

"What happened?" she asked, stepping closer and running a hand through my hair.

I relayed the events of the relationship – how we'd met on a beach in Santorini; how she'd been studying in Athens; and finally how she had left me.

"An American?" she asked. I nodded. "And a student?" I nodded again. "My, Stav, you certainly have a type don't you?"

I shrugged, standing up. "What can I say? I was an impressionable youth."

"Are you going to stay down there all night, or are you going to join the party?" Elena's voice called from behind us. I turned my head to watch her walk across the space between us, her voluminous white dress fluttering in the wind.

"You can't monopolize her all night," she said, coming to a stop and looping her arm through Amelia's.

"Don't you think you should be paying attention to your new husband, Elena?" I asked.

She shrugged, smiling at Amelia. "It's my wedding, and that means I get to do whatever I want."

Amelia looked between us and smiled, pulling away from me. "It is her night." She leaned down and pressed a kiss on my cheek. "You can have me all to yourself later."

.

I stood against the house, watching the festivities unfold in front of me on the dance floor. I spotted Amelia standing across the way in deep conversation with the bride. She looked up, as if aware that my gaze was upon her, and smiled, wiggling her fingers in greeting. Despite her concerns, she had fit in just as if she were family. I hadn't been the only one in love with Amelia Carmichael all those years ago. Elena had idolized her, looked up to her, had even begged our mother to trade me for her.

"That is the girl," a warbled voice said from my side. I tore my eyes away from Amelia and Elena, turning my attention to the small, old woman at my side.

"Yes Giagia," I said. "That's Amelia."

"She is the one, no?" she asked, looking at me as if she could see into my soul.

"The one?" I asked.

"Don't be stupid Stavros," she said, swatting my arm. "She is the one you will marry."

"No." I chuckled, shaking my head. "I don't know." I shrugged. "I only found her a few days ago."

"She is the one from before?" she asked. "The one you cried for?"

"I did not cry," I said, with a laugh. I had moped about sure, but I hadn't cried; at least not in front of anyone.

"Pfft," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "Your soul cried when she left. Now she is back."

"Yes," I nodded, solemnly. "Now she is back." But for how long? Could she go back to her life so easily? Could I?

"And you are happy?"

I looked across the crowd at the woman in question and nodded. "Yes. I am happy."

"You marry her?"

"What? No. I mean, I don't know," I replied. "Not now."

"Why not?"

"We have barely started."

"Stavros," she said, shaking her head. "Your souls know each other. You know each other for a long time. What do you mean by barely started?"

"It's been four days."

"Four days; four decades. Time, it does not matter. The gods have split us in halves, and each of us is always looking for his other half. She is your half, no?"

"I don't know." I chuckled, wrapping my arm around the diminutive woman who I had always turned to for advice. She believed in things I didn't – or at least hadn't – believed in. She threw her destiny to the fates above, trusted in a higher power to take care of her. The logical part of me could not believe in those types of things, but there was little else that could explain how Amelia and I still fit after all this time.

"Do not think too much Stavros. This is not a time for you to take your time. The fates have smiled upon you again," she said. "You cannot deny the fates twice."

She patted me on my arm gently before pushing me towards the dance floor. "Go. Get her."

I took two steps forward, turning back to smile at the woman who had guided me through so many of life's uncertainties. Maybe she was right, maybe I needed to leave my logic behind and see where the night took us.

Amelia looked up from her conversation, her smile reaching into her eyes when she spotted me walking towards her. She excused herself, stepping around Elena and meeting me halfway.

"I missed you," she said, reaching out and clasping my hands. "I know it's only been thirty minutes, but I missed you."

"I-"

"Funny," she interrupted. "Isn't it? Maybe there's something about weddings. That must be it. Your sister," she continued, tugging me towards the dance floor where they were playing a slow song, "is charming. I could not imagine twelve year old Elena turning into such a beautiful, accomplished woman. You must be proud."

I followed her lead, wrapping my arms around her as we danced to the traditional music. "I am," I said, nodding.

"And your family!" she exclaimed. "I have never felt so welcome anywhere in my life. I do not know why I was so worried, how I could forget what your family was like. It is like I never left."

"In many ways, it is," I said, resting my chin on top of her head. "It feels the same. As if time had just stopped and we resumed where we left off."

She sighed, and I felt her nod against my chest. "It is."

We stayed, clasped together in silence. A million thoughts were running through my mind, all about the woman I held in my arms. What if Giagia was right? What if Amelia was my other half? Could I let myself go enough to find out? What would happen if I did, and she left anyway?

"What are we going to do this week?" Amelia asked, pulling me out of my reverie. "I mean," she tipped her head up to look at me. "We have a full week to do whatever we want. What do you want to do?"

I leaned down, brushing a kiss across her lips. Maybe it was time for me to take a leap, to go after what I truly wanted, no matter the consequences. Maybe it would last a week; maybe a year. I did not know, and for once, it did not matter. I knew that I needed to see where it could go.

It would take some convincing. Amelia was not the type of woman that was used to following directions. It would need to be her idea, or at least I had to make it seem that way.

"I want to be with you," I said. I could convince her to stay, or hell, I could go with her. Whatever it took . "Wherever we go, whatever we do, it does not matter as long as I am with you."

She smiled up at me, pulling my lips down to meet hers in a gentle kiss. "Me too."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**APOV**

One week. I had one week to get Stav out of my system. Or, I should say that I used to have one week. Now we were down to one day. Twenty four hours before I had to go back to reality and get on that plane. The last six days had flown by at record speed. We'd spent nearly every minute together from the night of Elena's wedding - at the beach, at my house, at his house, anywhere the other needed to be.

I hadn't known what to expect at the wedding. I knew how some families could be, and showing up on the arm of their only son could earn a girl a few not so nice looks. But Stav's family had welcomed me with open arms. It was as if, as I had told Stav, I had never left. His mother had taken one look at me and pulled me into hear arms; Elena had squealed with delight when she saw me, even his grandmother had warmed up to me. She had been a tough one to break - first because she spoke hardly any English, and next because she was the decision maker in the family. I must have passed the test though, for by the end of the wedding, she was calling me Stav's half, wherever that meant.

I folded my arms under my chin and looked across the short expanse of sand that separated our towels. I had requested a lazy beach day. There wasn't much opportunity for days like this in Colorado, and it reminded me of the first time I'd met Stav, the first time we became lovers.

We had been so young, so impulsive. It was a coupling comprised of heat and passion, as only a relationship between two teenagers can be. This time around was different. It felt special, like something to be cherished and savored. The heat was there and could be turned on in an instant, but it was comfortable as well. I could not imagine our teenage selves enjoying a quiet breakfast as we had done this morning, nor would we have ever been able to be this close to naked and not touching each other. Not that that was much easier now.

"What?" he asked, shading his eyes with his outstretched hand.

"Nothing," I replied. "Just thinking."

"Well, we can't have that." He rolled over, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down at me. "There can be no thinking on a day like this."

I smiled and propped myself up to face him. "Why not?"

"It's a beautiful day," he said, waving his hand towards the water, "and we are two people in l-" he paused. My heart skipped a beat; was he going to say two people in love? Did I love Stavros? Dear God, I think I did.

_Shit. _How had that happened? _When _did that happen? Images flashed before my eyes – of us holding hands as we walked through the streets, of the way he looked when he was rumpled and sleeping next to me, of the color of his eyes when he was leaning in to kiss me. I couldn't believe it. I was in love with him. Genuinely, one-hundred percent in love with him. And I had to leave him tomorrow.

He cleared his throat. "Two people with nothing better to do," he said, though his eyes revealed that he wanted to say something else. I let out a sigh, disappointed that he hadn't. I couldn't blame him. It was frightening, admitting something like that. It wasn't like I was jumping up and down proclaiming it myself.

"Oh," I said, trying to mask my disappointment. "Of course."

He leaned forward and brushed his lips across mine briefly, as if reminding me that we were more than two people lying next to each other on the beach.

"Let's go in the water," he said, sitting up and offering me his hand. "No one's out there. We can have it to ourselves."

I took his outstretched hand, giggling when he pulled me to the water and tossed me in. I gasped at the shock of the cool water against my hot skin. I wasn't the type of girl that ever tiptoed into the water – it was all or nothing. I dove under the cool waves and resurfaced next to Stav. His hair was dripping wet, tiny beads of water streaming across his chest.

"Have I told you?" I started, edging closer to him. "How unbelievably handsome you are?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. His eyes shone with mischief. "You haven't. Why don't you tell me more about this?"

I nodded, biting my bottom lip as I closed the remaining gap between us. "Yes, quite. I'm afraid your physical beauty makes me a little lightheaded."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," I nodded. "As a matter of fact, I'm feeling quite faint now." I collapsed against him, stifling my laughter as his arms wrapped around me, propping me up against him. The laughter was quickly wiped away as his hands worked their way down my back. He brought one hand up to cup my face, the other splayed across the small of my back, pulling our hips together as he looked down at me.

"Melie," he said, his voice wrought with emotion. "I… I…"

"What?" I panted.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Nothing. Just being sentimental."

What? He couldn't say something like that and not expect me to have questions; not expect me to not know answers?

"About what?" I asked breathlessly.

"About a young boy and the first girl who stole his heart."

"Oh."

"Oh?" he asked with a smirk. "That's all you have to say?"

"Stav." I looked away from him, watching the water around us. "I. I-"

"You don't have to say anything," he said, squeezing me tightly to him and then releasing me abruptly and sinking down until the water covered his shoulders. "What do you want to do tonight?"

"I, uh, hadn't thought about it," I said. Who was I kidding? Of course I'd thought about it. This was our last night together unless something changed; unless I was brave enough to make something change.

"Should we go to the taverna?" he suggested.

"We could," I said, sinking down in the water next to him. "Or, we could stay in."

He smiled at me wickedly. "Yes, staying in is always a good option."

"I rather thought so."

.

"I don't think there is anything edible in here," I said, many hours later as I looked into the refrigerator. Calandra normally left everything well stocked, but I'd sent her away to her son's house last week in order to give me more time alone with Stav.

I looked over to see Stav sitting on the counter, his ankles crossed as he surveyed me.

"You look quite edible," he said, raking his eyes over my body.

"This old thing?" I asked with a laugh, plucking at the hem of his t-shirt I had donned when we'd finally had to succumb to our grumbling stomachs.

"I don't think I'll ever look at that shirt the same way," he said.

"I could just keep it you know."

"You could indeed," he nodded. "I don't believe I could wear it again without thinking of you."

Good. That had been my plan when I'd picked it up. Leaving bits of me around might keep me in his mind longer, might make him do something impulsive like fly out to Colorado to see me.

I smiled, turning back to survey the situation. "I'm serious. We have nothing."

"Let me see," he said, hopping off the counter and peering over my shoulder into the mostly empty refrigerator. "Hmm, this is bad." The shelves of the subzero fridge were barren, excepting two bell peppers, a hunk of feta cheese and a few bottles of sparkling water.

"I've got an idea," he said after a moment, turning around and picking up his mobile phone. Without a word, he punched out a text message and hit send. "Dinner will be here in thirty minutes." He smiled, setting his phone down and pulling me towards him.

"Oohh," I said, smiling up at him, "is that some super secret delivery service? Known to locals only?"

"It might be," he said, nuzzling my neck. "You know we don't particularly like tourists."

"Is that so?" I giggled, as his hands traveled up my bare thigh to the hem of the t-shirt that stood between us. "And here I thought you liked me."

He growled, his fingers deftly moving the shirt higher up my legs. "I'd say it's a little more than like Amelia Carmichael. But," I gasped when he tugged the hem up, whether from his actions or his words I did not know. What did it mean if he more than liked me? I didn't have time to contemplate too much as he urged me to lift my arms in the air. The shirt was nothing more than a memory, dangling off the handle to the refrigerator like a dish rag. "I am not like most Greeks, and you are not most tourists."

He picked me up bodily, turning me around until I rested gingerly on the edge of the counter. My breath was shallow as he trailed his knuckles from the nape of my neck, down the valley between my breasts and finally resting at the curve of my belly. His touch was whisper light, barely enough contact to actually qualify as a touch, yet it had me on edge.

"Stav," I cried. His eyes, which had followed the trail of his hand, flew up to meet mine. Their brown depths were laden with desire, and something else that I dared not identify.

"What?" he asked. "What do you want Amelia?"

I shook my head.

"Tell me," he demanded. "Tell me what you want."

"I want," I said, closing my eyes. "You. I want you."

"How?" he asked, sounding as breathless as I felt.

I wanted to tell him how I wanted him, truly I did. I wanted to tell him that I didn't want this to be over soon, or ever frankly; that being with him, like we had been for the last week, made me feel something I had never thought possible. I was known for being flighty, for being whimsical, but being with Stavros made me want to commit to something. Only, I couldn't say it. Not like this, when I was so vulnerable; not when his hands were on me, when I might say something I could regret.

"Like this," I said instead, reaching down and pushing the waistband of his pajama bottoms down until they pooled around his ankles. "Right here."

The joining was different, noticeably so. It was sweet; tender; almost reverent. I expressed all the words that I could not say out loud through my actions, through my touch. When we joined, it was as if two halves were becoming whole, as if we were made to fit each other.

He collapsed on me when we both found our release, the cool granite of the countertop a stark contrast to the hot skin of the man on top of me.

"Do you have to leave?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What?" I asked, looking up at him.

He looked down at me, the moonlight illuminating his features. He opened his mouth and began to speak. "Amelia. I don't want you to-" the doorbell rang, interrupting his words.

He groaned, pushing himself off of me and reaching down to grab his pants.

"What? You don't want me to what?" I practically shrieked.

He paused, looking at me as he tied the drawstring at his waist. The doorbell rang again.

"Nothing," he said shaking his head and turning on his heel to answer the insistent – and unwelcome as far as I was concerned – interruption.

I sat up slowly, smoothing my hair with a sweep of my hand, trying anything to slow my heart down. Would he have asked me to stay? Would I agree? Could I agree? I had a life in Colorado – friends, family; but all of that seemed so far away, so inconsequential when I was with him.

He returned minutes later, his eyes glazing over as he looked at me. I had not bothered to put the shirt back on. I was as comfortable in clothes as out, and I knew that there was no point in getting dressed when I would inevitably be naked again.

He walked around the counter, over to the large table that dominated the open kitchen and set a basket of food down in the center.

"Where are the chairs?" he asked, turning around. Okay, so he really wasn't going to go back there. At least not right now. I shrugged, hopping off the counter and walking to stand next to them.

"Calandra washed them before she left," I said, "she took them outside to dry and I haven't brought them back in."

"I can go get them," he said, moving towards the glass door.

"No," I said, reaching out and clasping his hand. "We don't need them."

I walked back to the counter, grabbing the shirt that he had so haphazardly removed and pulling it over my head.

"Why did you have to do that?" he asked, looking disappointed.

I laughed – well, more like giggled – and shook my head as I left the kitchen, returning a minute later.

"What's that for?" he asked, pointing to the large blanket in my hand.

"A picnic," I said, walking over and picking up the basket with my free hand.

"A picnic?"

"Yep. Open that door," I inclined my head towards the glass doors that led out to the balcony and the beach below. It was the beach where I had first met him, the beach where we had come together again. It was a place that was sacred to me; to us. What better place to go than the place that had brought us together?

"At eleven o'clock?"

"Why not?" I shrugged, walking through the open door and into the night air. The sky was clear and the air was quiet, a perfect bubble we could live in and pretend that tomorrow wasn't coming as quickly as I knew it was.

I walked out to the beach, knowing he would follow me, and began to spread out the blanket. When everything was ready, I turned around to find Stav standing silently behind me, watching my every move with heated eyes.

"That shirt doesn't do nearly as good of a job of covering you as you'd think," he said, kneeling down next to me and pulling me to him for a kiss that left me breathless. Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, my stomach reminded me why we were out here in the first place with a loud grumble. His lips curved against mine, his body shaking with laughter.

"I guess I need to let you eat, huh?" he asked, sitting back on his heels and loosening his grip on me. I was glad he kept his arm around me, because I was fairly sure I would have fallen over otherwise.

"I guess so," I said with a frown.

He reached down and opened the basket, taking out a small container and holding it in front of him.

"Close your eyes," he instructed.

I looked at him skeptically for a moment, then shrugged and did as he ordered. I heard the snap of the container as it opened, my other senses heightened by the lack of sight. I smelled something delicious and felt myself salivate. I guessed I was hungrier than I thought.

I felt his fingertips brush across my lips and heard his voice whisper in my ear. "Taste this." I opened my mouth, and he proceeded to feed me.

"Mmm," I groaned, savoring the flavor and opening my eyes to see him smiling at me. "Is that your grandmother's dolmades?" I asked. When I was sixteen, I had a hard time determining what I loved more, Stav or his grandmother's dolmades. I hadn't had it in ages, but I could easily remember why the decision had been hard.

He nodded. "How…? Who…?"

"Elena," he said with a smile.

"You had your sister – your newly married sister – deliver food to us at eleven pm?"

"Yep," he said with a shrug, taking a bite.

"Stav!" I squealed. As much as I appreciated it, the thought of pulling Elena out of bed to do our biding felt wrong.

"What?" he asked. "She owed me a favor. Plus, you know she'd do anything for you."

"But-"

"No buts," he said, licking the juice that had dripped on his thumb. "The food is here; the night is beautiful and we are hungry. Let us enjoy the food and the company."

I looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and decided that he was right. I reached down and grabbed another, chewing on it silently as I watched him.

He grinned at me, leaning forward to brush a kiss across my lips. He tasted of olive oil and mint, the flavors of the dolmades mixing with the taste that was identifiably Stav. His hand lingered as he pulled his lips away, playing with a stray lock of hair that fluttered in the wind.

"I am so glad I found you again," he said, looking deep into my eyes and smiling.

"Me too," I said breathlessly.

It was the single most romantic moment of my life, even more romantic than the day I'd left when I was sixteen. I hadn't thought a moment would top that, though looking back I realized that it had been more tragic than anything really.

I remained in place as he dropped his hand, tracing the edge of my lips with my tongue and savoring the moment. If nothing else, at least I would have this to hold on to. But would it be enough?

.

The morning came too quickly, the sunlight that had seemed to calming before was now invasive. In the darkness of the night, I could push all thoughts of leaving away. As long as it stayed dark, I would be here with him.

The boat back to Athens was scheduled to leave at eleven. I had insisted on taking the ferry, wanting to remember what it had been like that summer when I was sixteen. At the time it had seemed sweet, reliving a memory from so long ago; now it was laden with irony, leaving from the same port that I had before. But I had done it once; I could surely do it again.

We lingered in bed, and I clung to him as if I would never let him go. I prayed for the courage to say something, anything that would prevent the separation that was rapidly approaching; but I could not bring myself to say anything.

Stav was silent as he took me to the port. He took my hand, intertwining our fingers as we walked towards the crowded port. It was a busy time of year, the tourists swarming to get on with their vacation, businessmen returning to Athens, as Stav would do soon himself. Yet, even with all the people around us, it felt like we were alone in the world. There was only Stav, and me, and what we had at this moment.

His hands tightened around mine as the porter called for passengers to board. "Amelia." The one word, three syllables, said with such raw emotion, cut right through me. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. He leaned down, capturing my lips with his. He pulled me to him tightly, running his hands down my back possessively. I did not care that there were hundreds of people around us, eyes certainly on us. I needed this moment.

"Amelia," he repeated, pulling his lips away from me. "I can't do this again."

"What?" I asked, looking up at him. I could barely think straight after the things his lips had done to me.

He sighed, resting his forehead against mine. "I can't stand here and watch you leave. Not again."

"Oh," I said.

"Oh?" he asked, with a chuckle. "That's all you have to say?"

"No." I shook my head, though didn't say anything more. I looked down, feeling like my body was revolting against me, a part of me jumping around like a super ball, the other disbelieving. Was he really saying what I thought he was saying?

He laughed, tipping my chin up until our eyes met again. "What else do you have to say Amelia? Can you leave like this? Leave again?"

I was frozen, unable to do or say anything.

"It's you Amelia," he said. "It's always been you. I love you. I will always love you. I knew it the day I saw you on the beach when I was seventeen, and I knew it again when I saw you two weeks ago. I, I thought I had moved on, but I haven't. I can't."

"Stav-"

"Don't go," he commanded. "Stay. With me. I do not care where we end up – in Athens, in America, in Antarctica – it does not matter, as long as I am with you."

"I can't," I said, shaking my head. He looked utterly shattered, and I quickly realized the misunderstanding. "I mean. I can't leave you."

His arms tightened around me, a smile breaking out across his handsome face. "I thought I could," I continued. "But I can't."

He leaned down and kissed me once more, briefly. "You'll stay with me?" he asked.

I nodded. "I'll stay."

He picked me up, swinging me around in giant circles as our joined laughter filled the air. I could not believe this was happening to me, to us. It was as if we were coming full circle; as if what I had done all those years ago leaving him at the dock was the beginning of our journey, and this was the end. Or the beginning, depending upon how you looked at it.

He set me down gingerly on my feet, taking a step back and scouring my face. "You're serious?"

"I'm serious."

He smiled, taking my hands in his. "Marry me," he said.

"What?"

"Marry me. Be my wife, my other half. Make me whole."

"Stav," I started to protest. I couldn't get married; I could stay, we could be together; but getting married seemed a bit impulsive, even for me. "You don't have to marry me to get me to stay. I already said I would."

"I'm not asking you because I think it would make you stay," he admonished, though he was still smiling. "We belong together, you and me. I want you to be with me, to be my wife."

"I-"

"Say yes," he commanded.

"Stav."

"Say yes," he repeated. "Marry me, Amelia Carmichael. Be mine forever."

I looked at him, really looked at him. His eyes were on me, their brown depths earnest as he waited for my answer. He looked so handsome, so like the young boy I'd left behind all those years ago. I had dreamed of that boy, of the way things may have been if I hadn't left him behind. Would we have been strong enough to make it? Would I be the woman I was today if I had stayed? I would never know. But I knew one thing – without Stav I would go on living, being exactly who I had been for the past five years; with Stav, I would become something else, become part of something, finally belong to something, to someone.

I bit my lip, hardly believing the words that were about to come out of my mouth. We had left everything in fate's hands before, and fate had brought us back here, back to one another.

"Yes, Stavros Kostopoulous," I grinned, cupping his face in my hands. "Yes, I will marry you."


	8. Epilogue

The small hydrofoil boat pushed away, leaving behind the stretch of paradise in the middle of Aegean Sea. It was a common event, something that happened many times in any given day; but this particular departure was unlike any I had ever taken.

I looked towards the stretch of beach I had stood on ten years ago as I watched a boat similar to this disappear over the horizon. That day I had felt like a part of me was being ripped away. Today was different; that part that had disappeared so many years ago had returned.

I looked down at the top of the brunette head tucked beside me, watching the same spot I was looking at.

She turned her face up to meet mine, her eyes smiling behind the dark glasses that covered most of her face.

"Are you remembering too?" she asked. I nodded. "I never expected this when I came here," she continued. "Never dreamed that I would be on this boat with you. Like this." She looked down at the diamond that sparkled on her left hand, a symbol representing the vows we had made the night before.

I leaned down and brushed a kiss across her temple. "There are some things that you have to leave up to destiny."

"That sounds like something I'd say!" She laughed, her eyes sparkling as she looked at mine. "But there are some things that you have to take control of, that you can't leave up to fate."

"That there are," I said.

"I love you, Stav."

"I love you too."


End file.
